


Thread of Time

by Cherry101



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Cherry should be writing for nano, Fluff and Angst, Hanahaki AU, Katsuki Yuuri and Victor Nikiforov are Yuri Plisetsky's Parents, M/M, Major Illness, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reincarnation, Unrequited Love, at least, but - Freeform, they are in one timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 04:25:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12674388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherry101/pseuds/Cherry101
Summary: The story of a pair of lovers, finding each other throughout centuries of lifetimes.~~~~~~~"The first time it happens, Otabek is nineteen, watching a nearly-seventeen year old Yuri choke on the flowers in his lungs. "





	Thread of Time

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wanweird](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11894193) by [Stone_Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stone_Heart/pseuds/Stone_Heart). 



> Ahahaha... I should be working on Nanowrimo, but this keep bugging me and nagging at me, so I finally indulged myself in some more angst. 
> 
> THAT BEING SAID I have no clue when the next chapter will be out. 
> 
> Also, take this chapter with a grain of salt, please.

The first time it happens, Otabek is nineteen, watching a nearly-seventeen year old Yuri choke on the flowers in his lungs. 

 

At this point in time, he doesn’t realize how deep his affection lies in the blonde. They’re friends, but nothing more, because Otabek’s too hesitant to make the first move, and Yuri… 

 

Yuri’s pining for someone else. 

 

Hence, the flowers. 

 

Hanahaki is an awful disease. It eats up lives, buries them within the pounds of crisp flower buds and droplets of blood, turning what is actually a horrible fate into a romanticized death. People look at a victim and judge them by the flowers their body produced, and not for the actual unrequited love itself. 

 

It’s an awful disease, it’s an awful fate, and Otabek hates watching Yuri fall apart. 

 

He begs Yuri to get the surgery. It’s efficient, it removes the flowers, but in doing so it gets rid of the feelings that planted the flowers in the first place, and for that reason alone, Yuri refuses. Despite knowing that his love will never be returned,  _ never,  _ he stubbornly refuses to give up said love, preferring to hold onto it in the form of yellow flowers - daffodils, a symbol of a love that will never be requited, yet a love that will never burn out. 

 

It’s almost comical, Otabek muses, desperately waiting for a response from his friend. They’ve been texting each other practically nonstop the entire day, and knowing of the blonde’s growing illness almost makes his own anxiety worse. 

 

It’s comical, because Yuri curses the man he loves with every breath. He hides his feelings underneath layers and layers of insults and other such jabs, refusing to admit to the meaning of the daffodils that litter his bedroom. 

 

Otabek knows better. 

 

In the days leading up to Yuri’s inevitable demise, he flies to Russia, determined to be there for his friend, because it’s the least he can do if he can’t knock some sense into him instead. He sits at Yuri’s side as the Russian coughs and coughs and coughs, until he’s coughing harder than he ever has before and the flowers that spill out of his mouth are splattered with blood. 

 

“You need to go to the hospital, Yura,” He says desperately, rubbing circles into Yuri’s back as the younger teen moans in pain, “I know you don’t want to give up your feelings, but please,  _ please  _ get the surgery. Please.” 

 

“It’s too late.” Yuri rasps in response, his voice hoarse and his eyes painfully unfocused, “I… Beka…” 

 

And then he slumps forward, into Otabek’s grasp, succumbing to his fate.

 

Otabek dials the ambulance. He frantically attempts to keep his friend alive, his heart fluttering painfully and clenching and squeezing and no, no, he can’t do this, he can’t watch his closest friend die, he  _ can’t- _

 

In the end, his attempts are futile, and the paramedics carry Yuri’s cold, still form out on a stretcher, prepared to take him to a morgue. 

 

Everything is numb. 

 

And, maybe Hanahaki does have some poetic value in it. Otabek mulls that thought over, three weeks later, two weeks after a funeral he barely remembers. It doesn’t feel real, really. It doesn’t feel real, except for the haze that clouds his brain on the best of days and takes over his whole body on the worst. Except for the lack of calls, the texts that never get read, the lack of a presence in the skating community. 

 

Hanahaki must have some poetic value, because three weeks after claiming Yuri as its victim, Otabek starts to cough up petals. 

 

And isn’t it nice, knowing that the unrequited love will never be requited because said love is buried six feet under in the ground, gone  _ forever.  _

 

Otabek’s never heard of a Hanahaki victim who produced multiple species of flowers, but sure enough, the multicolored petals matched two different flowers. 

 

He looks them up, one day, out of morbid curiosity. After all, the flowers are supposed to have meaning. They’re supposed to represent the core of the unrequited feelings, so if he’s succumbing to the petals of two different flowers, he wants to know what the flowers mean. 

 

He thinks it would help.

 

(spoiler alert: it doesn’t.)

 

The bright, multicolored petals could mean a lot of things, but then Otabek stumbles upon one certain website that accurately sums up everything. Mixed zinnias - in memory of an absent friend. 

 

The dark red petals that curl up slightly are easily recognizable as a rose, but different colors have different meanings, and the dark crimson petals represent mourning. 

 

_ How accurate _ , Otabek thinks, staring dully at the scattered petals lying amongst the floor. He should probably care more for the mess, but what’s the point? 

 

He knows he’s going to die. It’s only a matter of time. If Yuri had been stubborn enough to refuse help, well, then so would he. Besides, no matter how many times he talked to his family and friends, knowing how badly his own death would hurt them… he can’t even imagine a world where he doesn’t love Yuri. 

  
He dies a month later, in a fit of coughs, surrounded by a scattering of dark red, bright yellow, and soft pink flowers

**Author's Note:**

> I purposely didn't name the person Yuri was in love with, but if you guess it correctly, I may gift a fic to you!


End file.
